I Howl for You
by Sheila Wolfe
Summary: The pack takes a trip to the Hales' family cabin and Stiles gets dragged along. As he and Derek spend more time together, hidden feels start to make themselves known.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Are we there yet?" Stiles grumbled to no one in particular. Just ahead of him, Lydia's car flashed its blinker and branched off onto yet another dirt road, following Derek's black Camaro further into the middle of nowhere. With a sigh, Stiles turned his jeep after them, wishing for a normal asphalt road with every rough bump and bounce.

Suddenly, his cell rang, the first noise Stiles had heard, other than himself, since the radio lost signal two hours ago. He managed to fish the phone from his pocket without swerving into the trees and glanced at the name before answering.

"Scott, what's the deal? Where's the sourwolf leading us?"

"No idea. Derek just called our car saying we're almost there. Just passing the message down."

"Good to know I'm being kept in the loop," Stiles grumbled. He could just make out the sounds of Allison, Jackson, and Lydia chatting in the background. A particularly large bump in the road resulted in Stiles' head colliding with the roof of his jeep.

Through the phone, Scott heard the long and very profane string of curses that followed. "Uh you okay back there?"

"Oh I'm just fine; the luggage keeps excellent company!" Stiles cheered sarcastically, glancing at the suitcases and duffle bags stuffed in the backseat of his jeep.

With the whole 'Jackson is a kanima set on killing us' incident over with and the future threat of an alpha pack coming to town, their own pack was in need of a little R&R and some bonding time with their newest members. A few days after school let out, Derek suggested a trip to one of his family's old cabins. Stiles didn't think the invitation was extended to him but, thanks to Scott claiming him to be part of the pack, the normal boy had been roped into summer camp for werewolves.

Just another day in the life of Stiles Stilinski.

To make matters worse, Stiles was stuck _alone _in his jeep with everyone else's luggage. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were riding with Derek while Scott, Allison, and Jackson were stuffed in Lydia's car. There wasn't much room left for their bags so Stiles had graciously offered to load it into his own passenger-less jeep; aka, he knew no one would volunteer to ride with him so he might as well make himself look useful.

Scott's sigh through the phone caught his attention. "Come on, Stiles. Don't be like that. It's just the ride up. We should be there in about five minutes."

"Yeah well don't expect me to carry your bags inside. I'm no bell boy," Stilinski huffed.

"Come on, dude, this is supposed to be fun! We deserve a vacation!"

"Yeah well I feel like the ninth wheel in this little werewolf pack-bonding powwow."

"You're pack too," Scott insisted even if it was utter bullshit. Stiles openly laughed at the serious tone his friend was using.

"Yeah right I'm sure Derek's thrilled to have the puny human tagging along."

"Allison and Lydia are human too," Scott pointed out.

Stiles leaned forward, trying to make out a shape hidden behind the trees through his dirty windshield. It looked vaguely house shaped but he didn't want to get his hopes up. "Technically Lydia was bitten even if she didn't turn and Allison is a werewolf hunter; she's scarier than most of you guys. I, on the other hand, am only good for shuttling the luggage."

Scott gave an exasperated sigh through the phone. "Stiles, you may not be a fighter but you're still an important member. You're always there to help when there's trouble."

"And to get slammed into walls," he grumbled too quietly for even Scott's werewolf hearing to catch.

"What about balls?"

"Never mind," Stiles snapped, hitting the brakes before his jeep could hit the back of Lydia's suddenly stopped car.

"I think we're here." Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott's assumption. They might have been friends but Stiles would be the first to admit that Scott wasn't the brightest bulb in the box.

"I see that." An awkward silence followed before Stiles added, "I'm hanging up now."

Everyone piled out of the three cars, stretching their cramped muscles as they moved forward to crowd around Derek's Camaro. Leaving his jeep at the end of the driveway, Stiles weaved his way through the group to stand next to Scott and see if their long drive was worth it.

"Wooow!" the pack breathed at once as they surveyed the scene. Nestled between the towering pine trees was a cozy little cabin escaped from a brochure. It was two stories tall and painted a sky blue with white trim. It looked picture perfect, if not a little old, and way too normal for a werewolf vacation home.

When Derek noticed the stares directed at him, he raised his dark eyebrows and shrugged. "My mom liked to come out here during the summer. She did most of the decorating. How about a tour?"

He led the way down the cobblestone path and up the steps of the white wooden porch. While Derek dug the key out of his pocket, Stiles inched away to glance around the side of the house. From what he could see, it joined with a deck in the back that held what looked a lot like a pool and fire-pit. Before he could explore further, a loudly cleared throat made him jump and spin around.

From across the now empty porch, Derek was watching him, his arms crossed and his gray-green eyes staring at him questioningly. "You coming in?" the older man asked, nodding towards the door where everyone else had crowded inside. Blushing with embarrassment, Stiles gave a quick nod and marched past the intimidating werewolf to join the group indoors.

The inside of the cabin was even more surprising than the outside had been. To the left was a large kitchen with a bright yellow cabinets and lacey curtains. A curious peek in the pantry proved it to be fully stocked and ready for a werewolf feeding frenzy. On the right, the living room was set up with comfy couches and chairs around a large TV. Across the room, a sliding glass door proved Stiles' right; there was definitely a pimped out deck in the back.

Derek gestured to a small staircase near the kitchen door. "There are three rooms upstairs and another down here," he pointed to a subtle door tucked not far behind the loveseat. "I don't care who sleeps where just don't fight over rooms and couples had better keep it down."

Each of the couples in turn ranged from embarrassed to oblivious innocence. Isaac, one of the few in the group to be single, was quick to pick his spot. "Dibs on the couch!"

That triggered the rest to rush for the stairs and claim a room. Lydia and Jackson made it to the largest room at the end of the hall with Scott and Allison next door. There was a quick conversation that suggested the girls share a room instead of with the boys but Lydia insisted that the current arrangement would be best since they would probably end up switching around anyways. Besides, the idea of Scott and Jackson having to share a room was enough to make a saint cringe. Erica and Boyd discreetly claimed the room closest to the stairs as their own, leaving only Stiles, Derek, and the room on the ground floor.

Stiles mentally groaned but said nothing. Maybe if he didn't mention it the awkward situation would just go away; denial was one of the teen's few talents. That and sarcasm.

"Guess I'll sleep on the roof," he offered weakly. The werewolves left in the room rolled their eyes but offered no comment. With the awkward filling the room, Stiles then decided on a retreat. "Why don't I just go get the bags?"

"Good idea, Stilinski," Jackson sneered from the stairs, the rest of the pack following him down now that the boarding situation was settled. "Just go ahead and put my bags in my room."

He shoved his way past the smaller teen, nearly knocking Stiles over in the process, and went to have a seat on the couch. His rest was short lived, though, when a strong hand yanked him up by the arm and spun him towards the door.

"How about _you_ bring the bags in," Derek ordered, nodding towards the door. Jackson looked like he wanted to argue but his resolve crumbled under the alpha's stern gaze. With a pointed huff in Stiles' direction, Jackson turned and went to obey Derek's orders.

Stiles, meanwhile, was still trying to figure out what just happened. It was the first time he could remember that Derek had ever stuck up for him. Usually he was the one picking on Stiles, slamming him into walls and what not. After a moment of stunned silence, Stiles finally found his voice and promptly blurted out. "I'm going to check out the room."

The outburst earned him odd looks but he was too busy crossing the den to care. He barely paused at the door before swinging it open and hurtling head first into the dark. He backed up and flailed his hand against the wall until it hit the light switch. Soft light illuminated the room, revealing a relieving sight for Stiles' frazzled nerves.

"Here," Derek suddenly voiced from the door way, tossing Stiles' duffle bag on the floor. "Hurry up and unpack, everyone wants to go swimming."

When he saw Stiles silently staring at the room, he glanced around curiously. "What?"

"There are two beds," Stiles whispered before bursting into laughing. "You didn't say there were two beds!"

Sure enough, instead of the one bed Stiles' awkward, and slightly perverted mind, had imagined, two twin beds had been made up and pushed to either ends of the room. It was a welcoming sight even if a small part of Stiles was almost disappointed.

Derek only raised his eyebrows at Stiles' discovery. "Well yeah there are two beds. What exactly were you expecting?"

The question froze Stiles. What had he been expecting? He glanced at Derek, unsure what to say. The older man didn't say anything, just continued to stare at him with that infuriatingly blank face. There was no telling what he was thinking.

"It wasn't…I didn't…" Stiles stuttered, feeling his face grow hot from embarrassment. Derek only smirked at his discomfort.

"Oh just never mind!" he finally shouted, stomping past Derek to head for the deck.

Not even an hour in and Stiles was already regretting this vacation.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Stiles wasn't alone on the deck for long. Minutes later, most of the pack was gathered outside, freshly changed into swimsuits and dying to check out the pool.

It was large, reaching ten feet at the deep end, and surprisingly clean for its lack of use. The water sparkled crystal and blue in the hot sun, promising a cool escape from the heat.

"Last one in is a rotten egg!" Jackson bellowed as he dove in. Isaac and Erica weren't far behind. Lydia only rolled her eyes before claiming a lounge chair to soak up some sun. Still in his clothes, Stiles settle for an available seat nearby, purposefully trying not to stare at the strawberry-blonde in a bikini.

"You getting in?" Scott appeared beside him with Allison in tow, all smiles and obliviousness.

Stiles shook his head. "Maybe later. The water looks kinda cold right now."

Allison looked apprehensively at the pool. "He's right, you know. It does look kind of cold."

"Only one way to find out!" Scott laughed as he suddenly picked his girlfriend up and sent both of them flying into the water. Stiles sighed; he really shouldn't be surprised. Whenever Allison was around, Scott's attention span was similar to an excited puppy. It was almost sad at times.

He watched Scott swim towards the shallows, Allison right behind him swearing vengeance, when Derek and Boyd suddenly appeared to join the party. They were carrying what looked like a volleyball and net that the others immediately volunteered to help setup.

The teams were quickly split up; Derek, Isaac, and Boyd against Scott, Allison, Jackson, and Erica. Jackson tried to coax Lydia into the game but she only waved him off, claiming herself referee.

"What about you, Stiles?" Erica asked but Jackson laughed at the offer.

"Good idea! Stilinski can help the other team lose!" Stiles frowned but didn't answer. He had put up with Jackson's arrogance for years, no reason to start listening to him now.

The game commenced, the winners being the first to reach fifteen points. Stiles watched the ball sail over the net back and forth over and over. Jackson's team had more players but they were clearly outmatched against the combined might of Derek, Isaac, and Boyd. Soon, the ball flew just out of Erica's reach and the other team was awarded their winning point.

"Good game, everyone," Stiles half cheered as he stood to go inside. It was hot and he needed a drink if he was just going to continue playing spectator for his friends.

"Hey Stilinski! Think fast!"

Stiles turned but too slow. The launched volleyball suddenly clipped his shoulder and sent him off balance. Air whooshed out his lungs as his shoulder collided harshly against the pool's concrete edge followed immediately by the side of his head. His vision exploded in white stars before he vaguely registered his body slipping into the water.

He wasn't entirely sure what happened afterwards; the blow had left him dazed and confused.

The first thing Stiles noticed was how uncomfortably quiet it was. No laughing or talking, no playful splashing, no birds or wind whistling through the trees. Just eerie and deafening silence.

Then he registered the cold followed by the suddenly realization that he was sinking further from the surface. Before he could get his already uncoordinated arms and legs working in a swimming motion, he bumped the bottom of the pool.

The gentle impact was enough to knock the last wisp of air from his body, leaving his lungs starving for more. He gasped desperately, trying to ease the burn but deadly water quickly clogged his nose and throat. Panic set in, clutching Stiles chest tightly as more water invaded against his will. Slowly, his movements grew sluggish and his thoughts faded as lack of oxygen slowed his brain.

Then it didn't matter. He was content to lie at the bottom of the pool, watching the sunlight dance across the surface far above him. It was peaceful and quiet and he frankly didn't care that he was dying.

_So this is what drowning is like…_

Darkness crept along the edges of his conscious, pulling him further and further away from thought. The last thing Stiles remembered was a large shape diving through the water towards him just before his world went black.

Then something strong hooked under his arms and hoisted him up. Seconds later, his head broke the surface and the peace and quiet was replaced with frantic shouting.

"Is he breathing!?"

"Get him out of the water!"

"Grab his arm! Be gentle!"

"Really, Jackson?! Why would you do that! What were you thinking!?"

"Stiles! Stiles, can you hear me!"

Stiles heard them shouting and felt hands pulling him out of the pool and onto solid ground but he couldn't respond. He couldn't even distinguish whose voice belonged to whom. It all sounded distant and garbled, like a bad TV reception.

Gentle hands probed at his neck and face. "He has a pulse but he's not breathing," a deep voice reported from above. "Come on, Stiles. You need to breathe for me."

He was pulled into a sitting position and leaned against something firm and strong. Suddenly there was a painful jab between his shoulder blades. It hit two more times before Stiles brown eyes shot open. He coughed once and promptly doubled over, hacked up the water that was still in his lungs. A hand on his back rubbed soothing circles as he greedily gulped down air and blinked stinging tears from his eyes.

When he was finished, Stiles looked up to see the pack surrounding him. Scott was crouched just to the side, looking pale and shaken, a teary Allison clutching his arm. Over Scott's shoulder, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac were gathered, not as visibly upset but still watching with concern. Further behind the others, Lydia was wide eyed and ridged as a board next to Jackson who had the decency to look a bit contrite.

"Stiles?" a voice right next to Stiles ears startled him. The boy jumped and turned sharply, immediately regretting it when a pang shot through his temples. Way closer than expected was Derek, dripping wet and shirtless. Stiles instantly blushed red and tried to put some personal space between them but the arm against his chest kept him in place.

"Stay still," Derek ordered, his green eyes flashing a warning red. Stiles instantly froze, letting the wolf's gentle hands lay him down on the concrete. "You may have a concussion. Is your vision blurry or unfocused?"

"Nope, twenty twenty crystal clear," Stiles answered, trying to look anywhere other than Derek's very distracting upper body. "Can I get up?"

"No. Do you know where you are?"

Stiles rolled his eyes and groaned. "You sound like my dad at an interrogation."

"Just answer the question," Derek growled, his dark eyebrows knitting in annoyance.

"Your family cabin in the middle of _freaking nowhere_. It's nice and all but dude, seriously? Five hours is way too long to drive-"

"Stiles! I really need you to focus right now!" The boy quickly shut his mouth and waiting for the next round of questions.

"When's your birthday?"

"Once every year." Stiles thought it was funny but the irritated frown he received from the alpha told him otherwise.

"Well at least his sarcasm is still intact," Jackson muttered from the background. The rest of the pack turned and zeroed in with icy glares. The jock sheepishly slurred a, "Sorry," before inching further from the circle.

Derek turned back to Stiles and asked again. "Birthday?"

"April eighth. Can I get up _now_?"

The wolf nodded and leaned back, giving Stiles enough space to sit up slowly. Free to move, he raised a hand to gently probe him throbbing temple. He winced when the touch sent another jolt of pain through his head. It wasn't bleeding but it was definitely tender. Ice and painkillers were going to be his best friends for the next few hours.

"You think you can stand?" Stiles nodded but his legs shook treacherously as he struggled to get off the ground. Derek gently took his arm and helped him into a standing position, only releasing his hold when he was sure Stiles wasn't going to topple over. All the while, Stiles' face was burning red from its embarrassing close encounter with Derek's shirtless and very muscular chest. The wolf in question, though, didn't seem to notice.

"Scott," Derek ordered, nodding his head towards Stiles. The beta was quick to obey, rushing to his friend's side as Allison followed like a shadow.

"I gotcha," Scott whispered, his voice sounded strained as he draped a towel around Stiles shivering frame. He pulled one of Stiles' arms over his shoulders and led him away as Allison went ahead to open the patio doors. Just before Scott pulled him inside, Stiles managed a backwards glance at the unmoving pack.

All glowing eyes, plus Lydia's normal brown ones, were on a clearly uncomfortable Jackson. His girlfriend looked close to a full on hissy fit. The three betas were ridged and cold as they glared at their fellow pack member. But out of all of them, Derek seemed the most hostile.

Even from across the deck, Stiles could feel fury radiating off the alpha. His eyes were bright red and his teeth were long and bared as he snarled some too quiet and far away for Stiles to hear. The sight of Jackson slumping in submission was the last thing Stiles saw before Allison ushered him and Scott through the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Scott and Allison led Stiles to the kitchen, dripping puddles of water across the floor, where they immediately started fussing over him like worried parents. The boy was ushered onto one of the barstools while Allison got him an icepack and Scott starting looking for some requested Tylenol. As soon as the pills were handed over, Stiles popped them in his mouth and washed them down with ice water.

"You sure you're feeling okay?" Allison asked, handing him the bag of ice. Stiles nodded and winced as the pack touched the bruise but the cold quickly numbed the pain.

"I'm fine. If I got seriously hurt every time _I _fell down, I would have been dead long ago."

Scott didn't look convinced and continued to brood across the counter until his friend waved his hands frantically.

"Helloooo? Earth to Scott! Would you quit with the 'serious face'? I'm fine! It was just a normal freak accident for me."

"It was Jackson's fault," Scott objected coldly. "He should have known better. You could have gotten seriously hurt. What if Derek hadn't got you out in time?"

Stiles nearly choked on his water, an uncomfortable reminder of his episode only moments ago. "Derek was the one who got me out?"

"Yeah, he swam over when we saw you weren't coming up."

"He's also the one that got you breathing again," Allison added.

"Oh god," Stiles groaned, hiding his red face behind his hands. "He didn't do mouth to mouth on me, did he?"

Scott and Allison exchanged a look before his friend finally answered, "No, just gave you a few smacks on the back and you coughed everything up."

Stiles sighed, a twinge of disappointment sparking in his chest where there should have been relief. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought.

"He's pretty ticked about the whole thing," Scott continued. "He's chewing Jackson out right now. Though, to be fair, Lydia's getting her fair share in too."

"What are they saying?" Stiles asked before he thought about it. He was sure he already knew the answer.

Scott tipped his head to the side, looking even more like a confused puppy than usual, and listened in on the conversation out on the patio.

"Basically what I just said. That Jackson is stupid and should have known better and that you're not as strong as we are and he needs to be more careful."

"Aka 'Stiles is a weak little human, you break it you buy it'." Stiles sighed and hopped off the stool. He hated being right all the time.

"No you're not weak," Allison argued, quickly picking up on his sour mood. "It's just that you're not a werewolf and Jackson needs to understand that humans aren't as durable as werewolves."

Stiles shook his head irritably. "You're human! So is Lydia! And next to you two, I'm like a useless China doll! Just some breakable _thing _that everyone has to go out of their way to be gentle around!" With his insecurity rant out of the way, Stiles turned and stormed out of the kitchen. More and more, he was really regretting this vacation.

He marched into his shared room, giving the door a loud slam he was sure the pack outside would hear if they weren't already eavesdropping. Stripping off his wet clothes, Stiles wrapped himself in his towel and sat stubbornly on his bed to fuming, nursing the bag of ice against his head.

It wasn't long before the sounds of the pack raiding the kitchen reached his ears. His stomach growled, urging him to join them for dinner but stubbornness won out over hunger. There were too many human-breaking werewolves and he didn't want to fall into the oven or something.

And so he sat on his bed and stared at the blank, uninteresting wall. An article Stiles remembered reading on concussions advised against sleeping at least three hours after a head injury so an early turn in was out. He tried to find ways to entertain himself but the few books he brought made his headache worse and his phone was next to useless without reception.

Time passed slowly, even slower than at school which Stiles was almost sure was impossible. Eventually, he decided to kill some time and get a much needed shower. Snagging the sweats and t-shirt he was using for pajamas, usually he was more of a boxers only kinda guy but sharing a room was going to be awkward enough without a lack of modesty, and slouched to the bathroom branching off the guest room.

It was small but not quite cramped with two sinks and a walk-in shower tucked in the back. There were two doors to the side that, upon further investigation, revealed a closed-off toilet area and linen closet. Stiles instantly discarded his chlorine soaked towel in favor of a fresh one. It was fluffy and smelled warm and clean. If he didn't know any better, he would have assumed it was straight out of the dryer.

Setting the towel with his dry clothes, Stiles wrestled with the shower nobs, finding a temperature right between Antarctica and the Fires of Mordor. Satisfied, he jumped into the water to rinse off.

It didn't seem like a bad idea at first but every time the water hit his face, Stiles had a quick flash of the pool. Of the eerie silence. Of the crushing weight of the water as he sunk further and further down.

Stiles felt the panic attack seconds before it hit, constricting his chest and kicking his heart rate into double time. He fumbled with the shower until the water stopped and stumbled his way onto the bathroom floor. Grabbing the clean towel, he wrapped himself up and crawled to the corner as he struggled to breathe.

_Calm down, Stiles. Everything's fine now. You just need to calm down…_

He managed to pull himself together enough to dry off and stand up but the pressure on his chest refused to go away. Gripping the edge of the sink, he watched his reflection as he forced himself to breathe deep and evenly.

What he saw wasn't very impressive; an awkward teenager with pale skin and scrawny muscles that never knew when to shut his mouth. His light brown eyes were wide and ringed with dark, tired circles. The buzzed looked Stiles usually kept had grown out, leaving a full head of brown hair that was currently dripping water down his washed out face.

Stiles stared at himself in the mirror, his breathing almost under control and his heart rate slowing, when a sudden banging on the door broke his concentration.

"Stiles!" The shout made Stiles heart jump in his throat. It was Derek.

And he did not sound happy.

"Just a second!" the boy choked out, quickly grabbing his clothes and tugging them on.

Another violent volley of knocks disapproved of his answer. "Stiles, open the door!"

"Okay okay!" he yielded when he was decent. Standing just outside of the bathroom, Derek looked like a disturbing mix of panicked and angry. His green eyes were wide and tense, just starting to verge onto red.

"What!? What is it!?" Stiles scanned the room, expecting some sort of attack or natural disaster but nothing seemed out of sorts. Well other than the werewolf trying to break down the bathroom door. "What's the big deal? Where's the fire at?!"

"Are you okay?" Derek asked, sounding oddly concerned like he had expected to find Stiles dying on the floor. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"What do you mean 'What's wrong?'? _You're_ the one who was shouting and trying to break down the door!"

Derek looked genuinely confused as he scanned Stiles up and down before shaking his head. "But… but I thought…I heard…"

"You heard what?" Stiles snapped. Derek put on his best 'patience wearing thin' expression. Without breaking eye contact, the wolf grabbed around Stiles' wrist gently and pressed his fingers against his pulse point.

"Your heartbeat."

As if on cue, Stiles' heart skipped a beat at the words. Derek raised his eyebrows at the sound but Stiles didn't notice.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," the boy whispered, studying the line where the bathroom tiles crashed against the bedroom carpet.

"Stiles if there's something-"

"Don't." Stiles cut in sharply, twisting his wrist out of Derek's grasp. "Just don't."

It suddenly felt crowded in the small bathroom and Stiles brushed past Derek into the larger room to get some air. The wolf took the hint and let him pass; Stiles knew Derek could have easily stopped him if he wanted. Crossing over to his chosen bed, Stiles sat and stared at the floor.

"Did you want something to eat?" Derek offered after a heavy silence.

Stiles shook his head. "I'm not hungry. I'm going to bed."

Derek looked like he wanted to argue but Stiles cut him off. "It's been over three hours so I doubt I have a concussion." Before any other arguing could be done, the boy dove under the covers and turned away from Derek. "Good night."

He never heard a sound but when Stiles glanced back, Derek was gone. Settling back into the warm blankets with a gloomy sigh, he closed his eyes and let sleep carry him away from the madness that was his life.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! Happy Full Moon! Thanks so much for the likes and follows for this story! This is my first M rated story so I'm doing my best at the mature sections! I'm writing this as fast as I can so keep an eye out for regular updates! Leave a review and hope you enjoy!

~ Sheila Wolfe ^~^

* * *

Chapter 4

The next morning, Stiles awoke to hunger pains in his stomach. He tried to ignore them, but after a few minutes of restless tossing and turning, he finally gave up and opened his eyes. Even without a clock, he could tell it was way too early to be up. The faint gray light outside the window hinted at the approaching dawn but the room itself was still dark.

Across the room, shadows hid the other bed from view. Stiles considered checking to see if Derek was still sleeping but quickly decided against the death wish. Instead, he tiptoed across the room and slipped out the door as quietly as possible.

In the living room, he found Isaac stretched across the couch and snoring loud enough to put Scott to shame. Stiles silently snuck into the kitchen and took inventory on what there was to eat. Out of the breakfast food, a granola bar seemed the simplest, and quietest, selection. He poured a glass of orange juice and munched on his meal, deciding on what he should do next.

Everyone would be asleep for another few hours so whatever he did would have to be quiet. It wasn't so easy, though, when everyone else was a werewolf with superhearing. Stiles was genuinely surprised he hadn't woken anyone up yet.

Outside the patio doors, thick fog was swirling through the trees and scattering what little light there was into a hazy gray. Sliding the doors open, Stiles took a hesitant step onto the deck. It was cool but not quite cold. Perfect jogging weather.

Finishing off the last of his breakfast, he bravely ventured back to the guest room, staying just long enough to grab his shoes and red hoodie before retreating. He refused to even glance across the room.

Out on the deck where there was less of a threat to wake sleeping wolves, Stiles tied his sneakers and tugged the jacket on. He followed the patio stairs down to where a worn walking path snaked its way through the tress. Tugging his hood up, Stiles started a brisk pace and followed the trail, leaving the house behind.

He didn't go far; the last thing he needed to do was get lost in the woods. He jogged for maybe a good mile or so before finally stopping.

That's when he noticed the uncomfortable silence. He listened but the only noises he could hear were his own panted breaths echoing off the trees. It was odd and unnerving. Sure it was early but he expected at least some birds or something to be making noise.

Suddenly, a deafening snap echoed in the woods to Stiles' right. He jumped and spun around but all he could see were the trees silhouetted in the fog. Another snap behind him made him spin again, fear starting to set in when he still saw nothing.

"Hello?" he called tentatively, fear strangling his voice as he circled slowly, trying to distinguish shapes in the fog.

Tree, rock, tree, bush, tree, tree, bush, rock, tree, tree, Derek, tree, rock…

Wait.

Derek was suddenly leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed and green eyes watching Stiles with what appeared to be a mix of questioning accusation and amusement.

"Holy shit!" Stiles cursed as he stumbled back in fright, clutching at his abused heart. Forget homicidal lizards or killer alphas, his death would probably be from one of the many jump scares caused by teleporting werewolves.

"Could you _not _play 'Give the Human a Heart Attack'?" he gasped, catching his balance on a nearby pine. "Serious, there are easier ways to kill me!"

Derek only raised one of his dark eyebrows at the accusation before finally speaking. "You really shouldn't wander off alone."

Stiles stared blankly at him for a moment, unsure if there was concern hidden in the suggestion or some sort of threat. Quickly finding his voice again, he managed to splutter out, "Ha-have you been following me this whole time?!"

"Not the _whole _time." Pushing off the tree, he took slow steps forward, never breaking eye contact as he continued. "I sensed when you were gone. It didn't take me long to track your scent and catch up."

"And why would you do that?" Stiles asked uneasily. Derek was staring at him as he stalked closer, like a predator on the hunt. The idea rooted the boy to the spot, afraid to even twitch.

Brown eyes traced the muscles rippling under the thin material of Derek's t-shirt. Stiles subconsciously wet his lips, blushing furiously when he saw Derek's eyes follow the movement, and glanced down at the ground before his imagination could take over.

The wolf stopped just in front of him to answer the question Stiles had almost forgotten he had asked. "That's what an alpha does. He looks out for his pack."

Stiles jerked his head up to gape in shock. There was no way he was having this conversation with Derek. Sure, Scott might consider him pack but _Derek_? The guy barely put up with him as an acquaintance! Yet here he was, showing concern in his own creepy stalker-ish way.

"Even me?" the younger male chuckled, a bit of hysteria slipping into the sound as he took a step back. "The weak, hyperactive human that you can't stand?"

_This _cannot_ be the same Derek Hale._

Stiles suddenly found that his personal space wasn't so personal anymore. In a blur, Derek's hands were fisted in the front of his hoodie and Stiles' back was roughly shoved against a tree.

_Okay, maybe it _was_ the same Derek…_

Derek's face hovered just inches from his own, his gray-green eyes hard and face set in its usual stony expression.

"_Especially _you, Stiles," the wolf growled just loud enough for the boy to hear. "You're pack and I _will _to protect you."

The boy's brain ground to a halt. He tried to form words but his mouth just moved soundlessly before snapping closed with an audible click. As he attempted to restart his train of thought, Derek loosened the killer grip on his hoodie but didn't quite let go.

"You know, the hood does seem fitting," Derek commented, quirking a corner of his mouth up in what was probably the closest thing to a smile Stiles had ever seen.

It took a moment for Stiles to understand the irony. Glancing down at his jacket, he giggled nervously. "Yeah, I guess I am kinda like Red Riding Hood, huh?"

"That depends." The wolf suddenly turned more predatory as he crowded even closer into Stiles space, eyes subtly flashing red. "Are you afraid of the big bad wolf?"

Through his clothes, the boy could feel the heat of Derek's body pressed up against his. Stiles' heart started pounding fast and loud in his ears. Desire shot through his body, pooling deep in his belly as he bit back a whimper. He was liking this waaaay too much. For an embarrassing moment, he remembered that Derek could probably smell his arousal and his face burned.

When he glanced at the werewolf to see if his hormones were going to sign his death warrant, Stiles was shocked to find Derek's intense gaze staring at him strangely. If Stiles had to put a word to the expression, it would have to be _hungry_.

That thought mixed with the Red Riding Hood remark and Stiles' currently Adderall-less state resulted in him thoughtlessly blurting out, "You're not going to eat my grandma, are you?"

As soon as it was said, Stiles wanted to sink into the ground and never come out again. He mentally slapped himself as the mood died on its feet. Derek huffed and rolled his eyes, backing out of Stiles personal bubble. An awkward silence followed, neither sure what to say. Stiles looked everywhere but at Derek, his body still raging with hormones.

"You should head back," Derek finally spoke, his voice rough and deep. Stiles nodded mutely, pushing off the tree and shakily making his way to the path. When he glanced back, Derek was already gone, disappeared back into the woods.

The sun was starting to come up, the fog melting away as warm rays of light bled through the trees. Birds were singing above as the forest woke up for a new day. The others would be up soon.

Stiles glanced around, wondering if he was being watched by his unseen protector. He took a few calming breaths, ignoring the faint, musky smell of Derek still clinging to his jacket, and started a brisk jog all the way back to the house.

By the time he climbed the steps of the patio, the sun was shining brightly and he could hear the rest of the pack up and about. Through the glass, he could see them squabbling over something as they cooked breakfast. They all turned to look at him as he entered the house, waving sheepishly at them in greeting.

"There you are!" Allison smiled, turning away from the frying pan of eggs she was scrambling to wave a spatula at him. "Where have you been?"

"I went for a walk," he quickly explained, gesturing spastically over his shoulder to the path that they probably couldn't even see. "The woods are really nice. We should take a hike later or something."

Scott nodded in understanding, walking over to throw an arm around his friend's shoulders. "How's the head?"

"It's fine," he shrugged. "Just had to sleep it off."

"Did you want some break-" Scott suddenly cut off, turning towards Stiles to take a tentative sniff. His dark eyes widened as he jumped back. "Dude what the hell!? Why do you smell like Derek?!"

Stiles froze, dread clamping down on his heart. Around the kitchen, the other werewolves were staring, obviously now picking up on the curious scent. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Stiles decided to tell them what happened.

"I, uh, ran into Derek while I was out walking."

Well, _some_ of what happened.

Scott narrowed his eyes. "Did you _literally _run into him? Your jacket reeks!"

His story was slipping. Time for Stiles to do what he did best.

"Oh yeah, we had a little hug therapy session," he shrugged. "Talked about our feelings, made daisy chains, it was a great bonding experience. Too bad you guys missed it." And that's when everyone rolled their eyes and stopped listening. Perfect.

"You sure you're okay?" Scott asked suspiciously, giving another snort.

"Dude, will you quit smelling me! I'm fine! Tell you what, I'll go get a shower then we can go do whatever werewolves are supposed to do on vacation." Before Scott could argue, Stiles had already sprinted for his room, relieved to find that Derek hadn't come back yet and he was finally alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

After a quick shower, which thankfully didn't end in another panic attack, and a fresh changed of clothes, Stiles reemerged to join the rest of the pack. They had all migrated to the living room and were in the middle of planning activities for the day. Derek had also returned and was watching his betas quietly from his seat between Isaac and Jackson.

The instant Stiles entered the room, the alpha's green eyes were on him, watching with an unreadable expression. Stiles met his gaze and instantly flushed red, remembering the strange encounter in the woods. Down casting his eyes, he quickly sat next to Scott on the smaller couch and forced himself to focus on the conversation.

"If we wait to go on a hike around lunch time, we can make some sandwiches and have a picnic," Allison was gushing excitedly from Scott's other side.

"We'll have to be back before it rains, though," Isaac added, earning a few agreeing nods from the others.

Stiles glanced out the window skeptically. Now that the fog had cleared, it was all blue skies and sunshine. Not a cloud in sight.

"It's supposed to rain?" he whispered to Scott even though just about everyone in the room could still hear him. All eyes turned to him and Stiles fleetingly wished he were a were-chameleon if it meant blending into the sofa.

On second thought, he'd end up looking something like kanima-Jackson.

"Doesn't look like it, does it?" Erica suddenly laughed from the armchair she was sharing with Boyd. She gave him a knowing look and tapped her nose. "We can smell it. Right now it's just the calm before the storm."

Trying to cover up his embarrassment, Stiles chuckled along and put on his best reporter voice. "And that's Erica with the weather report, back to you Scott!" Everyone rolled their eyes before continuing their original conversation.

"It's still kinda early for lunch. Maybe we can get some lacrosse practice in before we leave."

Jackson and Isaac eagerly agreed to Scott's suggestion. Stiles, who was hoping to make the cut for the team this year, was especially keen on the idea. If he could practice with werewolves and come out in one piece, normal high-schoolers were going to be a cake walk.

"Great idea! Allison, Erica and I can use some girl time!" Lydia quickly hopped to her feet, gesturing for the other girls to follow. Allison gave Scott a quick peck on the cheek before joining the strawberry blonde. Erica, though, was hesitant.

"Actually, I think I'll help Boyd make lunch."

Lydia studied the blonde werewolf for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Okay! We'll be upstairs if you change your mind!" With Allison in tow, she quickly led the way to the large guestroom, leaving the others to their own devices.

With the meeting adjourned, everyone rose to their feet and split into groups. Erica and Boyd discreetly made their way to the kitchen to start lunch. Isaac volunteered to fetch the lacrosse sticks while Stiles and Scott started discussing practice ideas. Stiles wondered briefly where Jackson was before spotting the jock next to Derek across the room.

They were having some sort of silent argument from what he could see. And Jackson was losing. Derek's eyes were in full alpha mode as he glared down at the younger male. The staring contest lasted a few seconds before Jackson downcast his eyes and gave a small nod. Like a dog with its tail tucked firmly between its legs, he shuffled away from Derek and towards the waiting group. Stiles almost expected him to be whining like a kicked puppy.

Just thinking of puppies seemed to make Isaac reappear, carrying armfuls of lacrosse equipment that he quickly passed out to the others. "Come on guys! Let's go!"

Scott and Isaac led the way outside, scouting out a practice field near the side of the house. Stiles followed close behind, tugging on his gloves and testing the weight of his crosse. He hadn't practiced since school let out.

_Hope I'm not too rusty…_

"Hey Stiles," Jackson called, jogging to catch up just as he was descending the patio stairs. "Listen, about what happened yesterday. It was stupid and I didn't mean for you to get hurt and I'm sorry."

Stiles stared at him suspiciously. This was very un-Jackson like behavior. "Who are you and what have you done with Jackson Whittmore?"

"I'm serious, Stilinski," the jock growled, a muscle twitching in his jaw. That seemed more like the Jackson Stiles knew and barely tolerated. "No hard feelings?"

"Yeah! Sure! No hard feelings!" Stiles agreed quickly if not a little skeptically. "Just enough of the touchy feely talk! Its kinda weirding me out."

"No problem," Jackson huffed, dodging past him to join Scott and Isaac on the field. Stiles jogged after him just as the teams were being split.

"Stiles you're with me; we're shirts," Scott explained when Jackson and Isaac both stripped their upper clothes off. Both were ridiculously well-built and muscular. Heck, all of the werewolves were. The memory of Derek's shirtless chest popped into his head and Stiles had to block the image before his imagination could get too involved.

_Stupid showoff werewolves with their stupid hot bodies…_

"Scott, I have a serious question to ask you."

"What?" Scott glanced at his friend curiously.

"Are werewolves allergic to shirts or something?"

Scott rolled his eyes as he got in position for the first face off. He and Jackson battled for the ball before it was raked to the left and the game began.

It wasn't an impressive, or very long, game. About halfway through, the werewolves started using their abilities, leaving Stiles in the dust. Scott managed on his own for a while but the shirts were down by two points by the time Erica shouted for them to come in.

The boys trudged in, depositing their dirty equipment by the door before tromping inside. They quickly went to change into some clean clothes and joined the others in the living room. Erica and Boyd had packed lunch into numerous backpacks that were being passed out amongst the group.

Stiles went to grab one but his hands had hardly touched the straps before the bag disappeared. He spun around, looking for the vanished pack, to find it already strapped onto Derek's back. Stiles considered demanding it back but the hard look he got from the alpha left no room for argument.

"Come on, Stiles!" Scott appeared at his side, throwing an arm over his shoulder as he led his friend outside. "You going to lead the way? You're the one who suggested the hike in the first place."

Stiles shrugged. "I guess so. Over the river and through the woods."

"No offence, Stiles, but I really don't want to meet your grandmother," Isaac quipped, everyone else chuckling along as they found the path.

"She might be a wolf in disguise, right Stiles?" Derek suddenly added. He gave Stiles a sly wink before taking lead of the group. Stiles openly gapped at the tease, turning bright red when he saw the others giving him questioning looks.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Scott asked, glancing between the two.

Stiles face burned even brighter. "Nothing!" He spluttered out, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to ignore Derek's quiet laugh from ahead.


	6. Chapter 6

Guess who's back! Back again! Sheila's back! Tell a friend! Hey guys, Sheila Wolfe here. *Hides behind shield* I know it's been a while since my last update. I've been busy with going back to school and getting a new job *insert enthusiastic cheer here* so it's been a bit busy the past few weeks but I finally got this chapter done for you guys! Thank you so much for your support! Let me know what you guys think and hopefully I shall be updating more frequently! Enjoy and thanks for reading! Lots of love!

~ Sheila Wolfe ^~^

* * *

Chapter 6

The hike wasn't very interesting. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the trees swayed in the gentle breeze. Just your average everyday stroll through the woods with the Beacon Hill werewolves.

As they walked, the pack attempted to stay entertained by making small talk amongst themselves. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were arguing over which of them was the fastest. Lydia kept up a steady stream of chatter with Allison about their girl time while Jackson and Scott, both holding hands with their girlfriends, chose to tune out and find a happy place. Ahead, Derek silently led the group along the path while Stiles brought up the rear, keeping unusually quiet.

His thoughts were drawn inward, chewing over the events of the last two days. The sudden attention he was receiving from Derek was strange to say the least. Ever since they had met, Derek had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the hyperactive teen. At first, the feeling was mutual but the more times they were forced to work together, typically in some sort of dangerous situation that ended with Stiles saving Derek's life, the more Stiles felt a growing attraction towards the werewolf.

Stiles thought it was respect or maybe friendship but closer observation forced him to admit it as a full on crush.

It wasn't anything like his feelings had been towards Lydia. For Stiles, Lydia Martin had always been the perfect girl; beautiful, smart, and well beyond his reach. It took him a long time to finally get over her but when he did, he'd found his 'love' had been more of a desire for something unobtainable. Glancing at Derek ahead of him, Stiles realized he was in the same hopeless situation all over again.

Or at least that's what he thought before Derek started acting like _he_ had suffered the head injury. Stiles could overlook the sudden defensiveness against Jackson. Heck, even his rescue at the pool could be labeled as common courtesy. But whatever had happened in the woods that morning was definitely _not _normal and _not _something Stiles could forget easily. Just looking back on it seemed more like something out of the twilight zone.

"Can we stop here?" Isaac's whine broke Stiles from his reminiscing. "I'm hungry."

"You guys are always hungry," Allison laughed, giving Scott a pointed look. He only shrugged in return.

"What can I say, werewolf metabolism. It's not easy to run all these senses at once."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm hungry too," Stiles piped up, his stomach growling in agreement. The others laughed and Stiles blushed at the noise but it seemed to be just the convincing they needed.

"Fine, we'll stop here," Derek finally gave in, rolling his eyes at the pack's enthusiastic cheer. They moved off the trail and settled for a small clearing under a few shady pine trees. The sandwiches were unpacked and passed around, Derek making sure everyone had their fair share though most of the scolding was directed at Jackson and Isaac for food hoarding.

As Stiles enjoyed his lunch, he laid back to watch the sky through the canopy of leaves and pine needles. The sun was still out but dark clouds were gathering on the horizon, confirming the wolves' prediction for an oncoming storm.

_Who needs the weatherman?_

Suddenly, Isaac appeared out of nowhere, plopping down next to Stiles and smiling excitedly.

"Did you want any more?" he asked, holding up another sandwich and bag of chips. Stiles sat up and shook his head.

"Nah I'm good, thanks."

Isaac's enthusiast grin disappeared. Now he looked disappointed and a bit uncomfortable. With his curly hair and big eyes, Stiles could easily imagine him being a humanized puppy. "You sure? I mean, you didn't get much to eat."

"I'm sure. You go ahead and eat it, I'm full."

It didn't take much more convincing than that. Isaac's face broke into another smile as he tore into the sandwich, barely getting out a, "Thank you," between bites. Stiles was afraid he might choke for a second.

"Wow slow down, I doubt it's going to run off. Besides, you could probably chase it down if it did." That earned a chuckle from the young werewolf as he stopped long enough to actually chew. "So how much longer do we have till that storm hits?"

Isaac had the decency to swallow his mouth full of sandwich before answering. "About another hour."

"Cool, I think, since we're staying in anyways, we should do a movie night or something. Any ideas?"

The werewolf pondered for a minute as he took another bite. "Hmm I don't know. Just as long as there aren't any chick flicks. Or documentaries."

"Don't worry, I brought plenty good ones," Stiles assured him with a wicked grin. "Though most of them are scary movies. I have a few sci-fi ones, too, just in case you guys decide to be chickens."

"Pffft whatever," Isaac laughed, giving him a playful shove, "I think I'll take that as a challenge, Stilinski."

"Isaac," a voice suddenly interrupted from above them. The two glanced up to see Derek glowering down at them. Isaac instantly went into scolded puppy mode while Stiles just looked on in confusion. "Weren't you supposed to give that sandwich to Stiles?"

That caught Stiles' attention. Derek made Isaac offer him a sandwich? What the hell was that all about? He glanced back and forth between the werewolves in confusion as Derek continued to stare Isaac down.

"He said he didn't want it," Isaac offered meekly, keeping his eyes glued to the grass between his sneakers.

"Yeah I was full," Stiles jumped in awkwardly, trying to defend his friend from getting into trouble over he really wasn't sure what. Surely Derek wasn't getting so worked up over a sandwich. "I told him he could have it."

Derek's angry gaze flickered to Stiles for a split second then back to Isaac before he finally huffed. "Fine. Get your things, we're heading back." With one final pointed glare at Isaac, Derek stalked off to get the rest of the pack up and ready.

"Well that was weird," Stiles muttered, jumping to his feet and brushing the grass and pine needles off his jeans. He glanced down at Isaac, who still looked a bit shaken, and offered him a hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine," the wolf nodded, giving an uneasy smile as he was helped up. With a quickly nod, he shuffled away from Stiles and crossed the clearing to pack up his own bag.

Meanwhile, Stiles darted over to Scott who was, for once, not within three feet of Allison and may prove to be useful in conversation.

"Hey, do you know why Derek's acting like a total spaz all of a sudden?" Stiles muttered as discreetly as possible into his friend's ear. Scott gave him a bewildered look, shifting his dark eyes nervously towards the alpha in question.

"You do know he can probably hear you, right?"

Stiles nodded curtly, purposefully not glancing towards the sourwolf. "Yeah probably. So what's got him acting so weird? Is it like werewolf PMS or something?"

"Really, Stiles?" Scott rolled his eyes as he shouldered his backpack. "I think _you're _the one acting like a spaz right now."

Stiles groaned and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "No like he's been doing…things…"

"Like what kind of things?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow in expectancy.

Stiles waved his arms frantically, trying to convey the message without giving away information that could possibly end with him paying therapy bills for all parties involved. "Like… I don't know… _things_..."

"Right…"

With a defeated sigh, Stiles let his arms fall to his sides. "Never mind, just forget it."

Scott only shrugged and led them over to where the rest of the group was waiting on the trail. Stiles refused to glance up even as the pack started walking, not wanting to risk eye contact with Derek just in case the alpha did eaves drop on their conversation. Flushing in embarrassment, Stiles sincerely hoped Derek's hearing wasn't as good as they thought.


End file.
